


legacy

by PorcelainStorm



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainStorm/pseuds/PorcelainStorm
Summary: After Tony's sacrifice to save the world, you (Stark!Reader) encounter Stephen at the funeral. Having lost him five years ago, and now coping with the loss of both Tony and Natasha, you're infuriated to find out the truth about what Stephen saw on Titan.*Previous implied relationship between Reader and Strange.
Relationships: Stephen Strange/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 83





	legacy

**Author's Note:**

> This is super old, but I'm surprised I never posted it.  
> Enjoy!

* * *

Pepper and Morgan had gone outside to mingle with the guests, while you remained still on the couch, staring at the spot where your father’s face had disappeared moments before. Everyone else had filtered out behind the Stark matriarch, leaving you to stew in whatever it was that was stirring inside of you.

You couldn’t begin to put words to the emotions you were feeling. Anger. Sorrow. Disgust.

_Numb._

You were mostly numb, as if your dad would come bursting from the garage with a grin on his face while rambling about a new project at any moment. Your brain just couldn’t process a world where he wasn’t there to fix your programming mistakes or help you make lunch for everyone on a sunny Saturday afternoon. 

It wasn’t fair. 

He’d finally gotten the one thing he deserved, _true_ peace, only to have it ripped away from him the moment the universe called to him. All he’d ever wanted was simplicity. He never needed the money or the fame, just the love of a few dedicated people.

And he’d gotten it all, for five bittersweet years. You wondered if Morgan would remember the way his eyes would sparkle like sun kissed iced tea whenever he was struck with inspiration. He'd often disappear into his workshop for hours, finally having time to make things he enjoyed.

Perhaps she'd remember the the crinkle at the edge of his grin whenever the two of you played “heroes”, and Morgan insisted on being Iron Man while you were regulated to Captain America (a joke he never let go, considering that’s whose side you’d briefly taken during the Accords nonsense). 

It all seemed so distant and gross and sad.

Wiping angrily at your cheeks, you stood up to go to the kitchen for a bottle of water when a sudden presence sent your hand reflexively in the air, summoning a repulser to your palm from the nano-bots in your wristlet. 

“Hi,” _he_ greeted solemnly. 

It was funny. It’d only been a few days since the battle at the compound, and he looked like he’d aged more than you had in the five years he’d been gone. 

“ _Stephen_ ,” you greeted dryly, lowering your hand, not at all ashamed you almost blasted the guy across the county line. You almost considered doing it anyway.

You shoved past him, crossing the room to the kitchen where you fished a bottle of water out of the fridge, not bothering, or caring, if he wanted one as well.

He followed behind like a kicked puppy, his hands folded in front of him while his eyes trailed on your back. 

You hated him. Hated him so much.

You didn’t have a good reason. It wasn’t like _he_ had been the one to personally kill your dad, but with Thanos gone and everyone smiling with their returned loved ones, you wanted _someone_ to feel just as miserably as you did. 

“How are you?” he broached the question softly, his expression souring as soon as the words left his mouth. He knew it was a stupid question, and he knew that you were just waiting for someone to ask it. 

“I’m fine,” you replied briskly, to the surprise of both of you. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of _predicting_ another thing in your life. He was the worst. The enemy. You hated him. _Obviously_.

You moved to exit the kitchen, but his broad shoulders blocked the only path. He heaved a low sigh and caught you by your elbow.

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” he whispered. You’d heard it before. 

You’d been screaming on the ground, clinging to Peter as the light in your dad’s eyes faded. 

You didn’t remember much after that. A bit of clean-up. Rhodey took care of the body. 

You were so tired. First the snap, then such a small flicker of happiness, of _hope_ , then Natasha, then your dad; faster than you could even react. 

You should have gone for the stones. Or distracted Thanos. Or made fucking Stephen put it on. 

“Did you know the entire time?” you hissed toward him, yanking your arm free and shooting him a scowl.

“I realized on Titan,” he murmured, his eyes drifting toward the floor. “When I was checking the potential futures.”

“ _That’s_ why you saved him,” you barked out an empty laugh, swiping at a rogue tear that snuck down your cheek. “Awesome. You put him up for slaughter and let him pretend life was fine. That’s just great, Stephen. He was organic free-range Iron Man.”

“He wouldn’t have made the decision he had-,” he began to protest but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“You know that’s bull-,” you hissed. “That man was the most selfless human there was. He would have given his life even if it meant _your_ useless ass was the last person standing.”

“I couldn’t predict which path it would have taken,” he insisted. “There were millions of possibilities at play. Scott Lang had to be released by a rat, Steve had to convince your dad that there was a chance. Do you know how many times I didn’t come back after giving up the stone?”

“Too bad it wasn’t _this_ time,” you seethed, wrapping your arms around your core.

“You don’t mean that,” he muttered, his expression falling.

“ _Of course I don’t mean that,_ ” you grumbled, your body language shifting from fury to vulnerability as another wave of emotion pulled in less antagonistic feelings toward the sorcerer. You were hurting, _bad_. “I don’t want anyone gone. Do you know how devastated I was that you gave the stone up? Thanos destroyed them! I didn’t leave my apartment for months.”

You rolled your sleeve over your palm, sponging up your free flowing tears, and grunted in frustration when you couldn’t stop them. 

Stephen reached forward with a handkerchief and dabbed away what he could before he pulled you into his chest. His warm arms wrapped around you, you let your body sink into him. 

It was nice. It was familiar. _Achingly_ so.

His cologne smelled nice.You had always loved the smell. It was your favorite memory before he snap, waking up in his bed with the subtle scent clinging to your skin.

You’d spent years trying to track it down after the snap. Eventually, Wong caved and gave you the bottle that had been sitting in Stephen’s bathroom. 

You wondered if he had to buy a new one for the memorial service.

“You’re taller,” he murmured into your hair. You snorted back a laugh that turned into a shaky sob. It shook your entire body while you crumbled into him. You still hated him. And loved him. 

It wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t have been laughing. You didn’t deserve happiness, you didn’t deserve to celebrate when you needed to grieve.

“I really miss him,” you mumbled, pulling away just slightly and looking up at him.

“I know,” he hummed, his thumb rubbing circles on your shoulder. 

“Thank you for coming,” you finally choked out. You meant it. As much as you’d dreaded looking him in the eyes, you’d wanted to hear his heart beat the moment he had returned. You still weren’t convinced that all of this was real.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” he replied quietly. "You get self-destructive."

He wasn’t wrong. You probably would have sulked the rest of the week, hiding from inquiring friends and screening phone calls. Though, you were pretty sure Sam and Bucky wouldn’t have left you alone for very long, or even Peter for that matter.

"It runs in the family, apparently," you mumbled.

There was a silence that fell between the two of you. 

It was, _strange_ , for lack of a better word. You had five years of things to discuss, changes on the team, promotions, tech you’d come up with, so much, whereas for him, he’d barely been gone a moment. In his world, it hadn’t even been a week since you’d last laid in bed hypothesizing about the New York mole people in the subway system. Yet, nothing would come out. Your mind was singularly focused on one thing, and you couldn't let it go just yet.

“You saw all of the potential futures,” you started and he frowned down at you. “How many were close?”

“Where we defeated Thanos the second time? Or when everyone comes back?”

“Whatever you’d consider a victory,” you replied and he pursed his lips in thought. 

You loved watching him think. You had missed it. The subtle tick of his eyes while he ran through his memories, the small grins when he realized something.

“Everyone came back hundreds of times,” he answered. “Though Thanos still usually showed up. There was one case where no one came back, but Thanos showed up and Steve Rogers made the final call to save whoever was left.”

“Why didn’t _you_ take the glove?” you questioned, hand still gripping his, meeting his icy gaze slowly. You weren't entirely sure if you were interested in the answer to the question. 

“Why didn’t _you_?” he challenged back.

“Because I’m not a time traveling wizard who saw the future,” you shot back quickly. He snorted at your logic, but you knew you had a good point. It almost made his question less relevant, given h ad you known the outcome, you would have gone for the glove in a heartbeat. You almost had anyway, regardless of whether it would have saved your father's life.

“Because _I_ never won,” he confessed. “You did on a couple occasions and it- it _worked_ , but I wouldn’t have called that winning.”

“Because you missed me?” you sassed back, your expression falling when a flicker of misery shot through his features.

“More than just me,” he murmured. “I saw your father shatter too many times and the aftershocks were… devastating to say the least…”

He trailed off and you decided in his pause that your heart couldn’t bear to hear any other possibilities. Not yet. Not _today_. 

Setting a fingertip on his lips, he silenced immediately.

“So, this was the best case scenario? We move on and he _dies_? Just gone _forever_?” you asked, your voice cracking at the sheer insanity of it all. No matter how many times Stephen tried to explain it, you'd never wrap your head around any of the logistics.

“Yes,” he nodded curtly.

“Do I go crazy in this one?” you asked. “Maybe plot some world domination? I think it’d be pretty easy given the toys I’ve come up with in the last five years.”

“ _No_ ,” he took your hand and cupped it between his. “And you know I swore an oath, I’d have to stop you.”

“Would you? How _noble_. Even if you can be _Vice_ World Dominator?” you teased, the smallest smile allowing itself across you features. It felt like eternity since you’d last smiled.

“In that case, I’d obviously have to reconsider,” he chuckled.

Life began to fall back into a bit of a normalcy after that day. You returned to the team, helped coordinate training with Sam and Bucky, and slowly regrew the relationship that had snapped out of existence years before. The world was finally at an uneasy peace. 

_Legacy was planting the seeds to trees that you would never see._

* * *


End file.
